A Fabulous, Besotted, Intoxicating Story
by Teyerin
Summary: Morphing a perfectly good classic with an unusual pairing: Joe and Alexandra and a different kind of evening.
1. Chapter 1

A Fabulous, Besotted, Intoxicating Story

Disclaimer: Don't own Wolf or "The F.B.I. Story." Again, not quite canon. Again, the aftermath of watching a classic - this time "The F.B.I. Story" with James Stewart and Vera Miles. This time, a Joe/Alex pairing. Thanks, RRSherlock for the encouragement of this silly idea; Thanks, McCoylover for helping with the chapter chops, and many, many thanks, LOCI Girl for patiently beta-reading and editing it.

Chapter One

Joe Fontana caught up with the prosecutors as they exited the courthouse.

"So, I suppose you're going to have a fairly peaceful night's sleep, aren't ya, Mr. McCoy?"

Joe kept his gloved hands in his pockets, reminding himself of the dangers of punching a civil servant, reminding himself that it wasn't entirely the Irishman's fault that the case was bound for the crapper, reminding himself that it wasn't wrong to wish for law enforcement days where 'rules' didn't restrict righteous justice.

Jack McCoy pivoted, one hand carrying his satchel, his other hand bare and exposed to the cold winds. "The Feds claim this one, detective; it's out of my hands…for now. This is only one lost battle, not a lost war."

"If you say so," Joe said, an insincere smile on his lips, reminding himself why he hated this side of the streets sometimes.

Alexandra Borgia waited a moment or two, a silent exchange between the two working partners that didn't go unnoticed by the Italian.

"Detective Fontana," Alex began once Jack was out of earshot, "regarding that kidnapping case…"

"What I've told you is true, Miss Borgia. Whatever that other fella says is a lie." He hated how his tactics were called into question lately. Even his partner, with a reputation for a hot-headed temper back in the day, cautioned him of it.

The young woman gave him a puzzled look. "I was just going to say that your testimony will be needed tomorrow, not..."

"Oh, my apologies," Joe said, meaning it. "I'm trying to fight off one of 'those kinda days,' if you know what I mean."

He loved it when she smiled--a ray of hope on gray days of doubt.

Alex slowly made her way to where Jack was standing. "Well, if there's anything I can do to help in your fight…"

"I'll keep the invitation in mind," Joe said. "I just might give you a call later." As he watched her walk away with a man he knew was his own age, Joe knew exactly what he had in mind.

--

Alex looked up and saw Jack at her door.

"This message was mixed in with mine," he told her, handing her a pink slip. "Sorry."

She saw a bittersweet expression on his face, curious to the reason why. Glancing at the note that Helen, the secretary, had scribbled down, Alex saw why. "Don't be," she said, seeing the second reason for his apology - her third date with Leo cancelled, again. "Leo's kinda boring anyway."

Truth be told, she had forgotten to call the guy back so she could cancel the date, given the whirlwind of appointments, investigations and phone calls.

"Want to get something to eat or are you going to do something sensible for once and go home at a decent hour?" Jack asked.

"Is that your way of escorting me out to see that I choose the latter, Jack?"

He shrugged. "Guilty. I'm supposed to catch up with someone at the theatre and I'm trying to stall, emphasis on the word 'trying.'"

Alex chuckled. "Is it the play or the date you're objecting to?

"Both? Danielle chose it, so I know I'm supposed to suffer. What this is payback for, I don't know." He sighed. "However, knowing you'll have a decent evening _will_ put my mind at ease, somewhat."

"You're not going to let Fontana's remark get to you, are you, Jack?" she asked, already aware of the answer.

"Of course not. Are you?" he countered.

Instead of answering, she grabbed her coat and purse, and prepared to leave with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Joe opened the door and beamed, glad that he followed through with making the phone call after all. "I'm glad this wasn't too hard for you to find," he said.

Alexandra stepped in and allowed him to take her satchel and remove her coat. "Not at all. I confess, I don't recall being up in this part of town too often."

Joe placed a hand over his chest. "That's one of the many reasons why I enjoy it--distance from work. And may I say again, I'm ecstatic that you've accepted my invitation for an apologetic..."

Alex's laughter warmed him immediately. "You don't owe an apology to me, nor am I apologizing for Jack. The Follett-Roberts case was something he and I would have zealously prosecuted. What happened happens. Deal?"

Joe tilted his head forward slightly. "Deal. Oh, and a new deal, if you don't mind? No more Irishmen in this residence, not even in name? Fair enough?"

"Deal," she said, still laughing.

Putting an arm about her waist, Joe led her into the entertainment room. "Now, may I present to you what I'd like to call an 'F.B.I. night.'"

"Excuse me?" Alex asked as she took a seat on the leather settee. "After what happened today, you..."

Joe flashed her a roguish grin. "Well, allow me to explain. This evening, when I came home, F.B.I. stood for, and pardon my language, 'fucking ball-busting imbeciles.'"

Alex's outburst surprised him. "That's from that movie, 'Hopscotch,'" Putting a hand over her mouth while she composed herself, she explained. "I never knew you were a Mathau fan, Joe. And to think, poor Ned Beatty had to struggle to feel comfortable with all that cursing."

"You don't say," Joe replied, removing her hand and holding it in both of his. "Well, that's my one main ungentlemanly act of the evening. When I received your message, I decided that F.B.I. will stand for a proper dinner of focaccia, bucatini a la taormina and Italian Bread pudding. All served with a fine bottle of morellio di scansano, of course."

Alex's brown eyes widened. "When you said a 'casual dinner,' I thought you meant something simple like spaghetti and French bread."

Joe faked a stab in the heart. "Never! I've been slaving away in the kitchen anxiously awaiting your arrival and now you're here. Wait here while I get dinner." He held up a hand. "No, there's nothing you may do but sit here and look lovely."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Alex blushed.

When she had agreed to spend the evening with the detective, it was to see how he was doing, to see him outside of a work setting without either of their work partners looking on. When she had agreed to spend the evening with him, it was to avoid spending another lonely night in the apartment.

She felt spoiled, just appreciating the décor of this one room. How he managed on a police officer's salary piqued her curiosity.

"How long have you lived in New York, Joe?"

She heard the clinking of glasses and silverware before he answered. "Oh, a little more than twenty years in all. Used to work in Chicago before that."

Setting the tray down on the coffee table, he asked, "What about you?"

Alex took the glass of red wine from him and gave him a thin smile of thanks, then said, "Long enough to know I don't want to go back home."

-

Joe smiled at that answer, finding hope in that perhaps she'd say 'yes' should he ask about a potential second date.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," he said and then clinked their glasses together. "In more ways than one, I mean."

He loved the way her cheeks colored, innocent and free of excess make-up. He had no intention of reining in the charm tonight.

"Same here," she said, slowly sipping the wine. "You prepared all of this from scratch?"

Joe nodded. "I made the focaccia last night. The buccatini I started the moment I came home--as you can see, I'm an optimist. And the Italian bread pudding's baking as we speak. Or eat, if you want to be precise."

He reached over for the bread basket, handed it to her and then grabbed the remote control. "I hope you don't mind to the idea of a dinner and a movie?"

"Depends on what you're calling the main feature," Alex said coyly. "If it's 'The Italian Job' or anything along those lines…"

"I told you what tonight's theme was, didn't I?" he asked, hitting 'play' on the surround sound system.

--

Alex couldn't help but chuckle to herself.

"The F.B.I. Story" seemed too perfect with Joe's games. While she thought she had been familiar with most of Vera Miles' work, this was one she hadn't seen. Watching Joe watch her watch the movie was almost a game in and of itself.

"Let me guess," she started. "It's that whole 'wipe crime off the face of the earth' attitude of Hoover's you like, right?"

"Why not?" Joe asked, his arm about her shoulders. "The idea of 'arresting them before the folder gets too thick' seems reasonable to me."

"And here I thought it was the lavish lifestyle of being a 'g-man,'" she quipped.

Joe leaned his cheek against hers. "I'm partial to the romantic tale within. Besides, you learn a lot of useful information here."

Alex cuddled closer to him. "For example?"

"The importance of bringing one's own mistletoe for starters. Or that terrific line of logic in how easy and simple it should be to ask a woman to marry you."

"'Like ordering a ham sandwich?'" Alex said, repeating the line from the movie. "Are you saying elegant, memorable proposals are useless?"

"Not at all. Just see no reason to make some things more complicated than they have to be." Joe smiled as Alex intertwined her fingers with his, both hands resting on her shoulder. "What about you? What's caught your fancy so far?"

Alex adjusted her posture to better rest against his chest. "I agree with Lucy. It doesn't matter how it's wrapped so long as the giver is the focus."

"So, you see, you _do_ believe in simplicity," Joe pointed out. If he were a married family man, the idea of giving one's wife a tissue-less wrapped gift would seem acceptable. However, Joe was neither married nor a family man…yet.

"Fine, a minor point to you," Alex conceded. "But, I also agree with Lucy about not looking good in black."

"That's a matter of opinion," Joe said, his mind recalling the outfits he enjoyed seeing her wear best.

Alex shook her head. "You can pull it off, like right now."

He smiled at the compliment, glad that he went with his all-black wear that he'd worn when he posed as a buyer of counterfeit goods. Joe's smile widened as he realized that was the case that had brought he and Alex together. "Well, it's a Sicilian thing, dear."

"Uh-huh," she said, unconvinced. "Let's just say, if you were to die on me, it would take a monsoon to cover my tears, Joe, and I mean it."

He ran the back of his hand against her cheek. "Don't. Let's not think about the possibility of either of us, or our partners, falling in the line of duty, all right?"

"Deal," she said.

-

Alex thought about another remark made in the movie. 'I get to choose which way I want you dead?'

Given the increasing concerns about some of the cases prosecuted, she couldn't help but worry a bit more often about the safety of those around her that she cared for. On those same lines, she couldn't help but wonder about her own safety.

Maybe it was because of hearing of failing health of some family members back home, but for Alex, life seemed to be getting too short to waste time anymore.

Perhaps that was why she boldly accepted the fellow Italian's invitation. Perhaps that was why she boldly entertained such a silly notion.

They watched the rest of the movie in relative silence, Joe pausing it long enough to prepare the servings of bread pudding, complete with Galliano Glace drizzled on top. By the time the end-credits finished scrolling, it was almost midnight.

"It's a good thing I'm not Cinderella," Alex said, stifling a yawn.

"True," Joe said. "Otherwise, I'd disappoint you in becoming a rat."

She chuckled. "I believe they were mice made into men."

"And here I thought Steinbeck was trying to be original," Joe said jokingly. "Give me a proper Italian tale anytime."

As he wrapped his arms about Alex's waist, he whispered in her ear, "Or just a good bedtime story instead."

-

Joe felt Alex's skin flush against his at the invitation.

"Second ungentlemanly mistake, sorry." He meant it, too. To risk turning this intimate evening into something else could be unforgivable or dangerous. "'Any robin with common sense would fly by a place like this,'" he said wistfully.

Alex rested a hand against his cheek. "I didn't accept the offer with a robin, or a ditch digger for that matter. I chose to spend the evening with you." Nuzzling his neck, she added, "In more ways than one, I mean."

Joe let out a content sigh of relief, his hands moving up and down her sides as they kissed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

---

The alarm sounded far too soon.

Even as the CD player gave voice to Frank Sinatra's interpretation of Chicago, Alexandra knew where she was as she slowly brought her eyes into focus. The warm body at her back, the burly arm over her abdomen and the soft breath against her neck were the details she focused on, smiling at how the mustache tickled her at times.

While she knew they were due at work in a couple of hours, Alex felt the sudden urge to call in sick, knowing Jack would cover for her, no questions asked.

There was no question that Alex had a satisfying night's sleep, sharing space between the satin sheets of Joe's king-sized bed. Behind the gruff and gritty exterior of a protector was the smooth touch and words of a Casanova. Joe's luscious lips spoke words of Keats, kissed parts of her long ignored. Joe's constant caresses flamed her inside and out, her heart yearning for more.

How they kept it to that level of intimacy beguiled her.

-

Joe smiled, aware that Ol' Blue Eyes was "awake" along with her.

He believed in the old, Sicilian pace of things--nice and slow in the realms of love. He believed in the fact that Alexandra Borgia was full of more surprises, in addition to the soft, silken surprise she packed in her satchel. He believed in fate finding a way of brining them together in this place and time.

He wondered if the relationship would be easy. Of course not--life was full of hills; hills went up, naturally.

By the glow of the candlelight that eventually faded, Joe covered the young woman beside him from head to toe with kisses and caresses. By the glow of the moonlight, Joe memorized every curve of her _magnifica_ body. By the glow of the sun's early rays, Joe drank in every detail of Alex and the evening shared.

All the better to get through the day, he told himself as Alex stirred against him.

"_Buon giorno, amore mio_," he said softly before kissing her along the neck. "Are you ready to face yet another boring day in an exciting life?"

"I hope so," Alex said playfully as she turned to face him. "After all, it's the only life I have."

Joe was tempted to ask her then and there, tempted to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him, for the rest of his. He was tempted to call Green and tell his partner to call for a temp. He was tempted to just whisk her away to Roma right now and forget the cold world of crime that encased them daily.

Instead, he gave her another quick kiss. "What do you say to going out to the movies tonight? The one on 56th Street's showing 'Manhattan Melodrama' at eight."

"I suppose so." Alex ran a finger along his jaw. "What..."

Joe wagged his eyebrows. "You've got a red dress?" Alex answered with a coy smile. "Wear it, 'Miss Sage,'" he told her before they both broke into a fit of giggles.

Yes, he thought, it was _definitely_ going to be 'one of those days.'

(fin)


End file.
